What Is Light?
by SamCole
Summary: Sam thought Balthazar was dead, but what happens when the Angel reappears right before his eyes in a desolate motel in Arkansas? And what is this that Balthazar is saying about Sam being his Charge? Sam/Balthazar, rating for later chapters.
1. Illuminated

_**Author's Note: As I have taken a break from my fic, 'Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most' I have decided to write something for a new favorite pairing of mine; Sam/Balthazar. Now, I am not sure where this story is going, but is most likely going to have several more chapters, the next few I have already typed up. So yeah, I'll most likely keep going with this. Also, it is not beta'd as it is a side-project.**_

_**Summary: Sam thought Balthazar was dead, but what happens when the Angel reappears right before his eyes in a desolate motel in Arkansas? And what is this that Balthazar is saying about Sam being his Charge? Sam/Balthazar, rating for later chapters.**_

_**Illuminated**_

It was three a.m. in a no-tell motel in Arkansas when Sam woke up to the sound of beating wings. He looked around the motel, Dean's slumbering body lay silent and still on the bed across from him, his lip still bruised and massively swollen from the hit he'd took on the hunt they'd just finished up. It was easy really, just a rouge vampire who'd tried to start his own coven and was easily dealt with, a minor break from their hunt for the Leviathans, which they'd lost track of as of a week ago.

Sam pushed the covers away from the bed as he sat up, eyes scanning the room. He listened hard, but the room was pitch black and he could hardly make out Dean's slumbering frame two feet away from him, let alone anyone who had been hidden in the corners of the room.

Still, Sam was disturbed. He had heard the sound of wings, and he only knew a handful of angels, all of which were dead as far as he knew, which meant he was either hallucinating Lucifer or a new Angel was after Sam and Dean.

Or maybe an old one was back from the dead?

Sam certainly hoped not as he slid off the bed, eyes scanning the shadows as he grabbed the nearest weapon to him, a silver knife. Sure it wouldn't kill an Angel, or Lucifer, but it would slow them down.

"Now, now, Darling, is that anyway to greet old friends?"

Sam nearly dropped the knife at the sound of the familiar British-accented voice.

"Balthazar?" He asked.

The lights in the entrance of the room flicked on, their lame yellow hue illuminating the Angel who stood below them without casting much light on Dean. Sam simply stared, for that was all he could do. Balthazar was alive. It was his only thought, and it certainly was a crippling one.

"Hello, Darling."


	2. Shocking

_**Shocking**_

Balthazar waited for a response with an all-too-familiar, cocky, stupid grin plastered on his face, amusement dancing in his glacial blue eyes. Sam wanted to believe it really was Balthazar in front of him, but he knew how impossible such a thing was.

Then again, Sam had defied death countless times, as had Castiel, so maybe it really was. Sam slowly set the knife of the bed and watched Balthazar, who chuckled at him.

"Really Sam? A knife against an Angel? You know better," he more or less taunted, shaking his head slightly.

"Are you really back or…" Sam trailed off and the Angel arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Sam didn't.

"Of course he's not real, Sam. None of this is," the painful, frequently reoccurring voice of Lucifer sighed, drawing Sam's attention to the Fallen Angel who leaned against the wall to the left of Balthazar, picking blood out from under his fingernails with a knife that still tormented Sam in his dreams.

Sam gripped his once-injured left hand, a reflex that was pointless now. All that remained of the wound was a faint red scar, no pain to make him believe that what he saw was real.

"Sam, will you turn off that damn-" Dean began in a rather disgruntled tone until his eyes fell on Balthazar. Sam was relieved. If Dean saw him, then he must be real, right?

"Sammy, that's not how this works. All of this is my cruelest prank yet. Your little Angel buddy, once dead, not anymore, and your semi-retarded brother. Eventually you'll just have to realize how impossible this is." Lucifer's tone was a low, sadistic purr and Sam winced faintly as if the words had actually struck him physically.

"How?" Sam asked Balthazar, and the once-Angel merely rolled his eyes as if Sam were increasingly dumb.

"Isn't too hard to figure out you moose. Where do you think Angels go after they die?" Balthazar asked and sipped whatever his drink of choice was from a small glass that he seemed to always have with him. Sam guessed it was whiskey from the deep amber color of the liquid.

"So…you were inside Cas?" Dean grunted, sitting up in his bed and eyeing Balthazar with suspicion.

Balthazar leered. "No, I thought that was _your_ job description."

Dean glared and if looks could kill, Balthazar would have been nothing but a dead meat-suit and scorched wings.

"Seriously, Balthazar, how are you alive?" Sam pushed, trying to ease the tension. To be honest he was tired, and though happy to see the not-so-dead Angel, he wasn't in a mood for games.

"When Castiel sucked in all those souls-including mine-and then blew himself into fish food, I took my ass up to Heaven to regroup and get myself fixed up. Those Leviathans, nasty bastards." Another sip of whiskey and the glass was empty. Balthazar set it on the nearest surface as he spoke, on top of the rather lame 40-and-some-change inch television that the motel graciously supplied.

"So, why are you here?" Dean asked. Oh yeah, wasn't that the million dollar question.

Balthazar shrugged. "I heard you two oafs were still fighting the good fight and figured you could use a hand."

"Not interested."

"Dean-" Sam began but was cut off.

"No Sam, we don't even know if it really is Balthazar or some Shifter or trick. Besides, our previous experiences with divine help haven't been too helpful, have they?"

"Dean," Sam said in a slow, measured tone, "We can't do this alone."

Dean glared at the Angel who chose to grin back in response. "And we're just supposed to believe you want to help us?"

Sam didn't find it too surprising. Balthazar had proved himself to be a friend after all, and though he was typically self-serving and an arrogant prick, Sam liked to believed he had a soft spot for the two.

Balthazar sighed, agitated, and shook his head before giving Dean a look. "Of course not. I don't expect you to trust me as far as you can throw me, but I'm asking you to let me help you."

"But _why_," Dean pushed, his tone gruff and demanding.

Balthazar sighed. "Would you believe I'm doing this out of the goodness of my heart?"

"As much as I believe in big-foot," Dean grunted and shot the Angel a look when it seemed as though he was going to make some snide remark. "Now tell us why you're really here Balthazar."

Balthazar looked at him, hard and serious as if he were considering something. Then his gaze turned on Sam and softened a bit, still searching but not quite as harsh. "Okay. I'm here because I have been assigned a Charge by the new ruler of Heaven, who seems to think all Angels need some human enrichment. I-of course-got stuck with one of my favorite people. You, Sam."

"What?" Both Winchesters gaped at the same time.

Balthazar grinned. "Sam Winchester, you are my new Charge."


	3. Change

_**Author's note: So yeah, this chapter is longer than the first two, but it was needed, and as I won't be posting for a few days, maybe a week, I wanted to make sure I left something good for everyone. Thanks a ton to those who have dropped me reviews so far, you really give me inspiration to write, and I'm sorry if I haven't thanked you personally, it's been a busy week. Still, I'd like to thank you here and now. **_

_**Anyways, now that I'm done ranting about my thanks, I'd like to appologize if the boys seem a little OOC, we don't have a lot to go on as far as Balthazar goes. Coy, sly, cocky, and rude may be a good way to describe him (especially towards Dean) but I wasn't sure how to characterize him when being seriously concerned (especially when directed at Sam, who clearly has a bond with him be it friendship or even more in the show), so I took some creative liberties.**_

_**I'm done now, so you can go ahead and read my dears. :D**_

_**Change**_

Dean laughed, and it certainly wasn't a pleasant one, more of a gruff, angry, you've-just-got-to-be-shitting-me kind of laugh. Sam on the other hand, could only stare in mild shock.

"Bullshit," Dean growled out and shoved the Angel. "You feathery dicks can shove it up your ass. Get out of here Balthazar."

Balthazar, to Sam's surprise, didn't smite his brother on the spot, and instead pushed around Dean and walked over to Sam before turning and addressing the eldest Winchester as if he were an infant. "Believe what you want you ignorant monkey, but I'm serious and unfortunately, bound by the stupid little Angel code we have to protect your hulking moose of a brother."

"Right," Dean snarled out, his tone dripping with a violent, venomous sarcasm as he pushed Balthazar away from his brother, then stood between them protectively. "Cause Angels just love helping out the Winchesters."

"Dean-" Sam tried to intervene, but Balthazar cut him off with a snarky reply to said brunette.

"Honestly you pig-headed imbecile, will you shut that gaping hole on your face for four seconds, get over your ridiculous unrequited love thing you had for Castiel and just-"

Dean lunged, and Sam was too surprised to really stop him. Balthazar had indeed just crossed a rather dangerous line, but who did Dean think he was trying to fist fight an Angel? Sam's guardian Angel no less who was-no doubt for Sam's sake-refraining from breaking every one of Dean's bones or worse, turning him into a smoldering pile of ash long enough for Sam to pry his brother off the British-accented male.

"Dean-"

"Let me go! I'll kick his feathery ass all the way back to-"

"Dean," Sam tried again, but was drowned out by another demeaning remark thrown in Balthazar's direction. He sighed, having grown far too agitated at this point and took firm hold of Dean's shoulders. "Dean!" He more-or-less screamed in the smaller man's face. At least it shut him up.

"Sam, don't tell me you actually believe the shit this pompous prick is trying to sell us," Dean demanded, his tone almost hurt when he shoved Sam away from him.

To Sam, it was an expected reaction, but it seemed to be the breaking point of all of Balthazar's patients.

Dean was thrown against the wall by said Angel who had manifested himself between the brothers just to grip Dean's collar and do so, only to pick him up off the floor and slam him into the nearest wall the second he hit the floor, the cheap plaster cracking from the strength of the elder man. Dean looked mildly terrified for a brief moment before his expression became steel once more.

"Listen very closely you ungrateful, sad, pathetic waste of space; I am an Angel, and you will remember who you are talking to. If it were not for my new duties to your brother, I'd smite you where you stand and end your pathetic existence. Now, I've quite had enough of your senseless name calling and arguing like an insolent child, so if you don't mind, I'd like it if you shut the Hell up for ten seconds," Balthazar spoke calmly, his tone dark, level and unwavering as he spoke, which surprised Sam. For such a dangerous threat, he spoke surprisingly cool as if scolding a child, not promising to fry him up extra crispy.

Dean didn't respond, and instead the two continued to glare, at which point Sam split the two apart, deciding it was about time he interjected his own opinions.

"Alright, you're both macho and strong, manly men, blah blah blah. Now if you two are done asserting your dominance or whatever with each other," Sam said pointedly, and pried them apart, "I think it's time I added my opinion to this."

"No," Dean huffed out at the same time Balthazar shrugged and nodded, as if he should have figured such a thing out sooner.

Sam turned his gaze to Dean. "This isn't just your decision."

"Sam, have you forgotten what happens when we let Angels help us?"

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair; this wasn't going to be an argument easily won, especially when Sam was ignoring the elephant in the room, if the elephant was actually a not-really-there hallucination of a smug, sadistic ex-Archangel who seemed to be enjoying the scene before him.

"Oh Sam, your brother sure is dense," Lucifer chided, twirling his knife. "Must be where you learned it from."

Sam pointedly ignored that corner of the room and focused on Dean. "Did you forget that he died fighting to protect us?"

Dean glared. "It doesn't make a difference Sam!"

"He's right," Lucifer chimed in, now standing to the left of the two, grinning with a wickedness that was all his own. "Nothing makes a difference since you're still in Hell."

"It does make a difference," Sam snapped, and he wasn't exactly sure who he was addressing, even if his eyes were still locked with Dean's. Lucifer smirked anyway, and Sam continued. "We know Balthazar won't hurt us. He's our friend."

"Just like Castiel was?"

"Could he be anymore hopelessly in love? I mean, I think I've really outdone myself this time around," Lucifer purred, gesturing to Dean.

"Shut up!" Sam snapped at the not-real Archangel, who smirked.

Dean frowned and followed Sam's gaze "Sam," he said, tone softening, "Do you-"

"Yeah," Sam cut him off, not wanting to discuss his elephant with Balthazar in the room. Speaking of which, the Angel now stood beside Sam, following his line of sight.

"Sam?" He inquired curiously, but not with his normal smug undertone.

Sam pointedly ignored all things Angel-related and returned his attention to Dean. "We need help man."

"We don't-"

Dean was cut off, this time by a curiously loud chirp from his cell phone. Sam arched an eyebrow at him, asking his brother with one gesture if he was expecting any calls from chicks he'd picked up. Dean's confused expression said he wasn't, and if it wasn't some local bar-lush, neither knew who else would be calling, as most of their old contacts were dead.

Dean pushed past Sam and Balthazar and picked up his cell phone. Balthazar took that moment to pull Sam toward the semi-hall/entrance of the motel room and speak in a hushed tone. "You have no clue how much trouble you guys are in. You need to go, get out of here. There's a case in Scranton, Pennsylvania, it'll be safe there and the long ride will give you and Dean time to sort things out. Once you get there, we need to talk more."

Balthazar spoke in a low, quick tone and Sam got the feeling that he was going to have to leave.

"I don't want to fight with Dean, I'll leave you to fight that battle but I need you to understand something, I really, honestly want to help you Sam, and I can."

"Wait," Sam said, shaking his head and leaning in closer, so Dean wouldn't hear them. He was listening to some voice-mail, and Sam knew they only had a handful of seconds left before Dean deleted it and ended their conversation. "What kind of trouble are we in?"

"You're about to find out and when you do I want you to run. Get out of here, and when you find another motel in Scranton, call me. I think I can fix your hallucination problem."

Sam's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak; too bad Balthazar disappeared with the ever-familiar sound of flapping wings.

"Damn it," he muttered and turned around to see a very shocked Dean shoving his cell phone at him.

"Listen," he demanded and Sam pressed the phone to his ear. At first he heard only the automated voice informing him of the date, time, and number at which the call had been received, then the faint sound of rustling, followed by a voice that Sam knew all-too well.

"We're coming for you." It said in a smooth, serious-as-death tone, the threat implied with crystal clarity.

Sam's eyes went wide, Dean nodded, took the phone and muttered, "pack your shit" clearly forgetting Balthazar as a much more important and prominent threat was suddenly put into motion.

Gordon Walker was alive, and he was coming for Sam Winchester.


	4. Where Is Laughter?

_**Author's note: Hi there faithful and new readers a like! Welcome to the wonderful world of Sam/Balthazar, even though Balthazar isn't in this chapter, but fear not! He will have a very important message for Sam in the next chapter! Other that, enjoy, and please forgive any mistakes and feel free to point them out so I can fix it. By the way,the first person who can figure out where the name of this story and this chapter came from, you get a cookie and a whole chapter dedicated to you, as well a one-shot, drabble or short story of your pairing, choice, rating, all that jazz! :D (Someone already figured it out, it's from a song called 'What is Light? Where is Laughter?, by Twin Atlantic. They're so cute an adorable. Be sure to look for a Balthazar/Crowley fic per request of Lily Rose-Petals soon!)**_

_**Where is Laughter?**_

Dean took a bite out of his egg McMuffin before returning his attention to Sam, who was half-hidden behind his laptop. They had taken off from their hotel only a handful of hours ago, this was the first time they had stopped since then and Sam wasn't going to waste free Wi-Fi.

"So, you find a case or what?" Dean asked after swallowing his food, which Sam was thankful for.

"Yeah actually," he began in response, and turned the laptop to face his brother. The screen displayed a blonde girl, mid-twenties in a girl's basketball outfit, and even though she was glistening with sweat, her pony-tail a mess and her clothes rumpled, you could tell she was really pretty. "Erica Burrows, twenty-five, goes to college in Scranton and recently committed suicide, or that's what the police think."

"I take it there's more to this story than that?" Dean asked, and then took another bite of McMuffin.

Sam scowled and slid his laptop back a few inches, safe from the crumbs that fell from the food. "Yeah. Alexandria Moore, a freshman at the same college who also played on the girls' basketball team 'committed suicide' a week before her, and a month before that Rachel Monroe was killed in a car accident."

Dean nodded. "Alright, still not seeing how this is our kind of thing."

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "I did a little more digging, and it turns out Erica's roommate thought she was on drugs, because she was, and I quote, 'seeing shit that wasn't there.' Specifically her dead teammate. Sound like our kind of thing yet?"

Dean popped in the last bite of his food, crumbled up the wrapper and tossed it in the trash can. "Sure does, let's go."

Sam slept for a few hours after they hit the road, then took the wheel and let Dean catch a few hours of sleep, since neither of them had gotten much the night before. When Dean finally did wake up, they only had about four hours left before they would reach Scranton, and it was dark outside. Sam hadn't checked his phone in a while but assumed it was about eight o'clock.

"We almost there," Dean grumbled, voice still gruff with sleep, and sat up.

"Yeah, just a couple more hours. We should probably get a hotel room though, it'll be too late to do any talking with the students." Sam mused aloud.

"Alright." Dean grumbled, and for a second Sam was worried he was going to go back to sleep. He reached forward, turned down the music and steeled himself against the fight that was about to happen.

"Dean, we need to talk about Balthazar," he said in an even, measured tone and heard Dean grunt. "I'm serious Dean."

Dean looked at him the way he used to when Sam was a kid, the look that said 'shut up' and something along the lines of 'I'm in charge here' before saying in a low, gruff tone, "Nothing to talk about Sam."

"Yes there is, and you know it. We need his help, we can't take on all of the Leviathans _and_ run from vamped out Gordon forever."

"We aren't running from him Sam. If we find him, you can just kill him again."

"We can't do this on our own Dean, and you know it! Just let Balthazar help, or did you forget that he was also betrayed by Castiel?"

Dean went quiet and then, like the calm before the storm, began to scream, "Why do you have to bring him into this!"

"Cause that's what this is about, right Dean? You had a thing for him, and he for you, but both of you were too chicken shit to say anything about it! You couldn't trust him, and because of that he tried to become worthy of your trust and guess what? Just like everyone else who tries to gain the trust of Dean fucking Winchester, he fucked up!" Sam was pissed now too, no longer filtering his words and feelings. He may have forgiven Dean, but he knew how Castiel felt to not be worthy of Dean's trust. Sam was his blood and flesh for Christ's sake, and Dean barely trusted him. Hell, there were times when Sam didn't think Dean trusted him at all, and that hurt.

"What is that supposed to mean? That this is all my fault!"

"Dean, you're an idiot. You're my brother, and I love you but for Christ's sake you are a fucking idiot! I know how he feels Dean. You are so hard to live up to. It's so hard to gain your trust, and I'm your brother! Castiel just wanted you to trust him, to be able to ask you to do something and to just have you do what he asks, the same thing you do to him, to me. You demand trust from everyone, yet trust no one and that's what happens. People crack under the pressure, good intentions and all that shit mean nothing because in the end they crash and burn. I started the end of days, Castiel let the Leviathans free. Get over it."

Dean fell silent and when Sam looked over, he saw that Dean was looking out the window.

Sam pretended he didn't see the way his shoulders shook but he knew. He knew how much Dean missed Castiel and Bobby and everyone else.

Sam knew because he missed them to.

He gave Dean's shoulder a comforting squeeze and was surprised when Dean gave Sam's hand a greatful squeeze in return before both of them returned to their separate halves of the car. Dean may not have done a lot of chick flick moments, but even he needed someone to comfort him sometimes.


	5. Soothing

_**Author's Note: Hey readers, sorry it took so long for me update this! It's been a rather trying week for me, but, with all that aside I'd like to present you with chapter five of my wonderful fanfiction! It's not exactly a long chapter, and it's really just a chapter that was needed to move the plot along and strengthen the bond between Balty and Sam, but don't worry, the action will be coming soon, as well as the yaoi, but this chapter is devoted to all my helpful reviewers, one in particular who won the contest for my last chapter, Lily Rose-Petals, who left a great review and won a Balthazar/Crowley story. Check it out!**_

_**Soothing**_

Sam stepped outside the motel room, closing the door without a sound behind him before putting on his jacket over his flannel shirt and pulling it closer to him, trying to fight off the chill of the Pennsylvanian night. He walked over to the Impala and leaned against the still-warm hood. Sam and Dean had arrived only a handful of minutes before, they had only just finished unloading their duffle bags before Dean claimed first shower, and Sam could tell by the expression on his face that he was going to be a while.

Which is why he decided now was the best time for a little chat with Balthazar, because even though Sam knew he had won his battle with Dean, having an Angel in their motel room would not be cool with him quite yet.

Sam looked up to the stars and sighed, purposefully ignoring the image of Lucifer playing with a knife, before beginning to speak. "Hey, Balthazar, you want to come on down and chat?" He paused, and when he was not given a response he continued, "Balthazar, come on man. We don't have long, and I-,"

"Calm down you handsome moose, I'm here," Balthazar teased, causing Sam to look to his left where the Angel stood, amber glass of some fancy whiskey in his hands. He looked the same as he always did, his bright blue eyes gleamed with deviousness, that smug-playful grin on his face and his normal attire of a black v-neck t-shirt blue jeans. Sam wondered for a brief moment if Angels ever got cold, and then dismissed it as he continued to study his friend. He was still in mild shock over the fact that he was alive, and looked the same as he used to, even after dying.

"You going to stare all day? How was the ride over?" Balthazar asked, and Sam couldn't decide if he was being friendly or snarky. It was hard to tell with Balthazar.

"It was fine, Balthazar. Dean caved-,"

"I know."

Sam continued, "And it was otherwise uneventful. Now, will you please explain to me how you're going to help with my hallucinations?"

Balthazar faked an expression of mock hurt, "You don't want to chat with me? Is that it? Oh you Winchester's, always the same. You just ask for more, more-,"

"Balthazar, I would love to chat with you," Sam snapped, "but it's hard when the man who spent several life times torturing me in Hell is standing right beside you telling me you don't exist."

Balthazar's expression became one of somber seriousness as he looked around, frowning slightly. "I see. Well, first let's deal with him," he mused, leaning forward and brushing his fingers over Sam's forehead, making the Archangel vanish in an instant. Sam blinked, surprised, and shot Balthazar a questioning look.

"You aren't seeing things, Sam," Balthazar said, and Sam frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You really are seeing Lucifer. Don't worry, he's not here. Not in a physical sense anyway," he added with haste at Sam's panicked expression.

"I don't-,"

"Let me finish, Sam," Balthazar interrupted, and Sam was surprised to hear an undertone of gentleness in the Angel's voice. "You spent quite some time with Lucifer, and over that time, your soul was fully exposed to the brute force of his Grace, and your 'hallucinations' as you put it, are the side-effects of a sort of, imprint."

Sam frowned and wrapped his arms around himself, "I still don't understand. Imprint?"

Balthazar sighed and went to sip his drink before realizing Sam probably needed it more than him, and offered it to the taller man. Sam accepted it gratefully, downed the whiskey and handed the glass back to him. "Okay, to put it as simply as I can, his Grace is burned into your soul, not all of it, but traces of it, enough of him with you to torment you and only you."

Sam sighed and looked down. As if his life couldn't get any worse, now Balthazar was telling him he was stuck with his own personal little hellion, bent on making Sam ten different kinds of crazy until he killed himself.

"You said you could help?" Sam asked, hating how his voice broke with pain. He was tired, more tired than he let on to most of the time, and the thought that he could be permanently stuck with Lucifer was a weight he wasn't sure he could bare. Craving demon blood, psychic visions, back-stabbing Angels and a life without those closest to him was hard enough, but Lucifer, always tormenting him in his dreams, awake, breaking him down all the time, it was the final straw. If he was stuck with him, that'd be the end of him, even more so now that he knew the Fallen Angel was _real_ in a sense, even if he couldn't do any real damage physically.

"I can help."

Sam could almost cry with joy as soon as the words left Balthazar's mouth. Never before had he been more over-joyed to hear that accent. "How," he asked, or croaked, desperate for relief.

"Well, do you recall Castiel saying that he and Dean had a more profound bond? It's the bond between Angel and Charge, and it's soul deep, hence the handprint that Dean now wears. I can do the same to you, connect us on a soul deep level and begin healing your soul. It will take time, and it will be painful, but I can help you."

"Do it." Sam said without a second thought. He didn't care if it hurt, as he had already been through the most painful things imaginable, and was far from worried about it.

Balthazar nodded, and stepped forward. "Take off your shirt."

Sam blanched. "Wait, what?"

Balthazar rolled his eyes. "Unless you want a handprint on your face, take off your shirt. I'm going to put it over your heart, as it's a very strong link to the soul."

Sam paused, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot as he unzipped his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. The cold air nipped his skin, sending goose bumps over his flesh and causing his nipples to go erect, which made him flush self-consciously. Last time he had been this exposed for another, he had been soulless, and that was something he didn't wish to think about. He let his flannel shirt fall open, revealing his skin to the Angel who, Sam swore, gave him a quick once over before reaching out.

"Brace yourself."

Sam inhaled and Balthazar's palm touched his chest. Sam's body exploded with fire, and he could tell he would have been screaming if Balthazar's free hand wasn't covering his mouth. He wasn't exactly aware of his physical body, more so focused on the raw burn that tore apart his inside. Images of Hell flashed through his mind, mixed with memories of being soulless, then memories of before that, when he was growing up, Amy, Dad, Mom, Dean, Jess, before a strange feeling began to wash through him. The heat reached the point of cold, like ice, humming through his veins and soothing the burn. He was then mildly aware of the fact that what he was feeling was tendrils of Balthazar's grace, seeping through his very soul and soothing over the raw, still-healing edges of it, chasing away pain and hysteria.

And Lucifer's faint imprint.

Balthazar chased away traces of the Archangel from his soul, replacing them with his own Grace, binding them.

Sam felt safe, for the very first time since he'd returned from Hell, Sam felt as if he was safe, wrapped in warm, which had melted the ice. Balthazar was wrapping Sam's broken, bleeding soul with his Grace, and healing it. Sure, there would be scars, things that would remind him of the past, but finally he felt as if things were going to be okay.

When Balthazar's physical touch pulled away, Sam could still sense him, a deeper connection than what he had ever had before with anyone, and he was at peace. His eyes opened and Balthazar looked at him, seeming bemused, but exhausted. Sam realized that he also felt the physical exhaustion of the Angel's cleansing but smiled, relieved.

When Balthazar's physical touch pulled away, Sam could still sense him, a deeper connection than what he had ever had before with anyone, and he was at peace. His eyes opened and Balthazar looked at him, seeming bemused, but exhausted. Sam realized that he also felt the physical exhaustion of the Angel's cleansing but smiled, relieved.

"That's it?" Sam asked, and Balthazar nodded.

"Not quite, but it's a start. The healing process will take time, and like a cancer, Lucifer's Grace has the potential to return, and if it does, I'll have to burn it out again. Of course, the more it comes back, the more dangerous it could be to burn it away, as I might start burning away your soul. But, until problem arise, you're good, Lucifer free."

"However," Balthazar interjected and Sam frowned, feeling worried for a moment, but somehow, he felt the soothing touch of Balthazar's Grace in his mind. "This connects us on a different level. Angels, as you know, already have slight psychic abilities, the Bond we now share enhances though, allowing me a great deal of access to your mind and soul, and you a good deal of connection to me as well."

"Wait," Sam asked, as he finished buttoning his shirt and zipping his jacket up to conceal the new mark he bore. "You can read my mind?"

Balthazar grinned. "More or less, but you too can sense feelings from me, and I from you. This has the potential to be dangerous, an overflow of emotions could be bad, and if anything were to happen to one of u, the other would suffer a great deal. However, I'll know if you need my help, and vice versa."

Sam nodded, and sighed, feeling relaxed and more at peace than he had been for a long time. He wasn't sure what he should be saying, or sure if he should even be saying anything at all. He wanted to say thanks, but it seemed almost unnecessary, he felt like Balthazar already knew, which was weird to him.

He felt weird in general, like he was more than just Sam. It was strange to him, he felt full and at rest, but safe, like Balthazar had wrapped Sam in a magic shield of angelic chain mail that would protect him from anything.

"Go to bed Sam," Balthazar said, chuckling faintly and turning, as if he were going to walk off.

Sam looked at Balthazar and, for the first time, _saw_ Balthazar. He saw through his physical shell, saw the faint Angelic glow that could only be his Grace and, gods above, his _wings_. It was like a veil had been lifted, exposing the unseen to Sam. They weren't just shadows; they were full, massive, grey-black wings. Sam reached out as Balthazar turned around, his fingers brushing against a feather.

Then Balthazar was gone, leaving a long, twelve inch dark grey wing, flecked with black in Sam's hand. It was, well, beautiful. And soft.

He walked back inside and saw Dean emerging from the bathroom in a pair of boxers and a black t-shirt. It was something Sam had grown accustomed too. Sam set the feather on the table, then peeled off his jacket and set it on his bed, making Dean arch an eyebrow.

"What's that?" Dean asked, gesturing to the feather.

"It's Balthazar's," Sam said softly as he grabbed a change of clothes, a white t-shirt and some loose, plaid flannel pajama pants.

"Whoa, wait, I didn't think Angel's actually had wings." Dean asked, head tilting to the side.

Sam hummed a response and walked into the bathroom, ignoring the strange look from Dean as he turned on the shower and stripped down. In the mirror he observed his reflection. He'd always been a bit self-conscious about his body, he worked out on a regular basis to make sure he stayed in shape and, but as he studied himself in the mirror that night, aw he saw was Balthazar's Mark on his chest, a hand print just above his left nipple, over his heart and collar bone. He caressed it, surprised it didn't hurt even though it looked like a recently healed burn mark.

He smiled, and for the rest of that night, he didn't see Lucifer.


	6. Hope

_**Author's Note: Hey readers! I got a rather long chapter for you guys, over two thousand words! Also, a bit of exposing Sam's feelings for Balthazar, and Dean's feelings for Cas. Stick around Destiel fans, this fic had something in it for you too. Other than that, it's mostly a filler to just move the plot along, and some bonding between Dean and Balthazar, a bit of action and wonderful angelic heroics.**_

_**Hope**_

Black dots danced across Sam's vision, his ears were ringing and consciousness was something he was having a very difficult time keeping hold of. He was vaguely aware of Dean screaming some violent profanities at a vampire, who in turn let out a screech as Dean probably cut his head off. Needless to say their case was not going very well.

Rachel Monroe, as it turned out, was a girl who had been on the basketball team at Scranton and was having a secret affair with the young, beautiful female coach. She died in an accident after the coach, a devastated Maria Young, had told her that she refused to come clean to her husband about their relationship until after their divorce was finalized. Of course Rachel had thought her lover was ashamed of her, hence her pissed off, wicked jealous spirit that was haunting the coach until Sam and Dean salted and burned her (not after she almost ripped off Dean's man-parts when he made a pass at the athletic director, go figure.)

That was where things got tricky. As it turned out, there was a small nest of vamps in an area just outside of Scranton that heard the Winchesters were in town. They assumed the brothers were after them, next thing they knew they were up to their necks in territorial, defensive, hunter-hating vampires.

Not that Sam really blamed him. He'd taken out so many nests while he was soulless that his head hurt just trying to recall all of them. Sam Winchester was a name both feared and hated amongst the monster community. It just so happened that the resident community hated him more than feared him.

Of course, there were only about ten vampires, all of which fed off of the wild-life in a nearby reservation, so their presence had gone unnoticed and unreported, which was why Sam and Dean were thoroughly surprised to have been jumped by the vamps at their motel room.

Sam pulled himself to his feet, even though he was surprised he was still intact after being thrown through a wall by a pissed off twelve year old vampire chick. Talk about a blow to his pride. He reached for his knife, barely managing to scoop it up as a gnarly red-headed female lunged at him. He swung in a wide arch, but his knife wasn't big enough to behead her, it just happened to be what he had on him when he walked into the motel room and was attacked.

The ginger fell back, blood spewing from the wound but Sam knew she'd heal quickly. That wasn't his current problem, instead he was worried about the twelve year old and two twin twenty something year old vampires that had taken a liking to him. Keeping them away from him was like trying to surf a tsunami wave, it lasted about three seconds and ended with him almost dying.

Dean wasn't doing much better with the three vamps he was facing either. Two lay dead on the floor and by now the ginger had healed up and was trying to decide which subdued Winchester she would tear into first for killing her mate. Dean was bleeding profusely from a rather painful looking nose, but Sam wasn't doing much better. One of the twins had slammed his head into a wall. His ears were still ringing as they held him still for their leader and he was pretty sure his head was busted open and he may just have gone permanently deaf.

The leader had chose Sam, and was making quite a show out of it too. She crawled across his lap, telling him of the stories she'd heard of the mighty hunter, and how he was actually a weak nothing. She was, however, going to make him pay for killing her kind. Her fangs were sunk into the flesh on his neck when Balthazar had shown up in a blaze of angelic glory. His wings arched out wide, and he began smiting the vampires on the spot, his face twisted with a protective rage. He killed the leader first, ripping her away from Sam, then the three males that held onto Dean, then the twins and last the little girl. He scooped Sam into his arms rather quickly, muttering something along the lines of, "Can't you idiots stay out of trouble for five minutes," before his fingers brushed Sam's forehead, healing him instantly.

Dean was next to be healed, though Sam knew there wasn't as much tenderness to it as there was when Balthazar had touched him. Sam could taste Balthazar's dislike for his brother on his tongue, bitter and undesirable, as weird as it was. Sam figured this was just one of those things that he had mentioned earlier about their new bond, and silently resolved to ask Balthazar about it later.

Dean muttered a thanks, albeit begrudgingly, but Sam was just glad he didn't instantly try to verbally tear the Angel a new one. He was exhausted, and he would not have been able to handle a fight between them at the moment. Really, all he wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep.

"You have to move," Balthazar said absently, snapping his fingers. Their bags were packed and by the door just like that and Sam almost whined like a pissed off fifteen year old. Balthazar gave him a look, and Sam could taste his sympathy, and that was even stranger. It was creamy, and sweet on his tongue, soothing. Sam sighed.

"Why do we have to leave?" Dean grunted.

"Unless you want to deal with Gordon Walker and his hoard of your undead enemies in the next few hours, I suggest you just trust me. You guys need some more fire power, and I've got just the thing, so come on."

Dean gave him a weary look, Sam could tell he wanted to argue, but was too exhausted as well. From fighting off a pissed off spirit to almost dying at the hands of a royally pissed off vampire family, both Winchesters were wiped out and needed sleep. Balthazar wanted to snap them to their new location, but Dean refused to leave Baby alone. Sam offered to drive, but Dean said he'd rather do it and instead Sam crawled into the back seat, leaving Balthazar to the front while Sam tried to lie down and sleep.

"Don't put your shoes on the seat!" Dean snapped, and Sam growled in response but kicked off his shoes, before lying on his side, half scrunched up and swearing under his breath about being too tall and too cold. Balthazar reached to turn up the heat, but Dean smacked his hand away before he could.

"Okay feathery dick, here are the rules to my Baby, you don't touch anything," Dean growled and Sam couldn't help but chuckle in amusement. Dean's possessiveness over his car was comical, even more so when directed at an all powerful Angel, who shot said Winchester a glare in return.

"Sam's cold," he said, gesturing toward Sam.

"Heater's been busted since our last stop. Don't bother," Sam muttered, staring at the back of Balthazar's head. He kept trying to figure out why he couldn't see Balthazar's wings anymore, feeling less connected to the Angel without such a privilege.

Balthazar turned around and snapped a blanket into existence, handing it to Sam who took it gratefully and covered himself up. "Any way you could make me shorter?" Sam teased tiredly, and Balthazar grinned.

"Not unless you want to be younger too."

Sam made a face. "I'll pass."

Balthazar nodded and smiled faintly before returning his attention to the windshield. Sam felt soothing waves of emotion wash over him, something he was sure was Balthazar's doing, but was glad none the less and slowly, under those comforting waves of emotion and the warmth of Balthazar's blanket, he drifted off.

Balthazar however, remained wide awake and only slightly annoyed at Dean Winchester's presence. He was sure if he wasn't under the influence of Sam's doting love for him, he'd be ripping his face off or turning him into a goldfish. Instead, he felt himself relaxing into Sam's mind, which was now an expanse of emotions and dreams as he slept on, something Balthazar was pleased about because if he was being honest with himself, he really cared about Sam.

Of course, Sam cared about him too, he knew that much. He wasn't stupid, and when he was close to Sam's physical body, he could read his thoughts, and though Sam didn't think anything particularly dirty or anything like that, Balthazar read his appeal as though Sam were an open book, even though Sam didn't even realize his feelings yet, which was why the Angel hadn't pushed anything. He knew how the Winchester's were, if you tried to force them into anything, they'd tuck tail and run.

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on between you and Sam?" Dean asked, his tone low and gruff-protective-as Sam slept on, unaware in the back seat.

"I told you, he's my Charge." Balthazar replied stiffly, not really interested in making small talk with Dean in the least.

"I'm not stupid, Balthazar." Dean warned, and Balthazar remembered why he disliked Dean, his blatant lack of respect toward Balthazar, or any Angel for that matter, though Balthazar found it hard not to blame him. Dean and Angels hadn't exactly ever gotten along well, except for him and Cas.

"No, I suppose you aren't," Balthazar mused, and then spoke rather brashly, "I look at him the same way Castiel looked at you, he looks at me the same way you looked at Cas."

Balthazar could see the gears shifting in Dean's head, he saw his jaw twitch in frustration, but more importantly, he could sense his hurt. Balthazar wasn't an idiot either, Dean and Castiel had the worst case of unspoken love between them ever, and it pained everyone who took one look at them. It was obvious to everyone but them, apparently.

To Balthazar's surprise, Dean's reply was a somber, "Yeah. I know. That's what worries me."

Balthazar nodded. "I understand, or did you forget that Castiel killed me, his own brother and oldest friend, before he betrayed you."

Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and for a brief moment they shared something, a common source of very similar pain. Castiel had hurt them both, he had broken Dean's heart, but Dean had technically done it to himself. If they had told each other how they felt, Balthazar knew things would be different right now.

And maybe that was what hurt the most. He wouldn't have been betrayed by the only creature in creation that he had fully trusted before Sam, and he had earned Castiel's trust, as Castiel had earned his. Balthazar only trusted Sam because he _knew_ Sam, he knew how he thought and felt, and knew Sam couldn't keep a secret from him, and Sam trusted him because he was Sam Winchester, who trusted everyone and was hurt by everyone. He knew the kid had issues coming out of his ass, anyone who took one look into Sam's mind would see all the self doubt and sadness there, not to mention the haunting traces of Hell and the Devil himself. He felt little guilt, because he had more than made up for his sins already, though he did regret. He wished he could change things, but knew he couldn't, and he didn't let his life revolve around said mistakes.

Honestly, his resolve and pureness surprised Balthazar. He could sense the ever present, faint trace of demon in Sam's blood, he could see his tattered soul, still healing and raw, and he could even hear his thoughts, and yet Sam was the most pure, honest thing Balthazar had ever met. He did all that he did for others, he never worried about himself, he had beautiful ideals on right and wrong but mostly he believed.

He believed that people weren't all bad, that even bad people changed.

"I care deeply for him," Balthazar admitted to Dean. "Not just because he is my Charge, but because he is Sam Winchester, he's the physical embodiment of everything that God created humans to be."

"And that is?"

"Hope."

_**Author's note the second: Derp derp! Hope you guys liked that cute/lame ending of schmoopy fluff! This story has taken a lot out of me, but I'm just getting started. Wait until the next chapter; you'll enjoy who else comes into play!**_


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